


By Your Side

by khatijahabdulsalam



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Poor Jemma, angry jemma, angsty angst, angsty jemma, coma!Fitz, sad jemma, scared jemma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-28
Updated: 2015-06-28
Packaged: 2018-04-06 15:10:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4226586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/khatijahabdulsalam/pseuds/khatijahabdulsalam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After being dumped in the ocean, Fitz is comatose and Jemma holds vigil by his side.</p>
            </blockquote>





	By Your Side

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AslansCompass](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AslansCompass/gifts).



> Gift for AslansCompass for the More Than That- less than 5k exchange.
> 
> Prompt: Fitz in the coma after season 1 finale.
> 
>  
> 
> Hope you like it, AslansCompass!

_“No! I’m not leaving you here”_

_“You’re taking it, end of story”_

_“There has to be another way”_

_“Let me show you”_

_“Why would you make me do this”_

_“ More than that, Jemma”_

Jemma jolted awake and for a few disorienting moments, she confused dream with reality. Her chest tightened and a chill went down her spine. Her body went rigid even as she glanced around, squinting at the bright lights as her other senses pick out the strong scent of disinfectant and the persistent beeping to her right.

_“Jemma…”_

Jemma’s head whipped to the side where a man was lying on the bed. She sprang upright, swinging her legs clumsily over the armrest of the chair she had dozed in. Her weary heart beating a wild tattoo against her chest, she dashed to his side, heedless of all the aches in her body as she scrutinized him with a practiced eye. She knew even before she reached his side that she had imagined his voice. The semi-circle of machines surrounding his bed were monitoring his vitals and there hadn’t been any inconsistency in the relentless beeping that would have indicated activity of any kind. Jemma resisted the urge to break something.

Her heart clenched painfully when she finally looked at him. His face was pale and drawn. Cheeks hollowed out and the bones above standing out in stark contrast. Jemma gently brushed the back of her fingers against the slight stubble around his jaw, her breath coming out in a shudder as she admitted to herself that the soft whisper she had heard was only the remnants of a recurring nightmare playing cruel tricks on her.

Her face crumpled as she fought to keep the tears contained, hands flapping wildly as if she could simply shake off the wispy tendrils of despair that clung to her heart, weighing it down with a constant, indomitable pull. 

“Oh, Fitz,” she whispered hoarsely, her throat still painfully sore from all the seawater she had ingested. The ache had now transcended mere discomfort and she was agonizingly aware of every inhalation she made. But the soreness served as a distraction and she focused on it as she messily wiped her face with the back of her sleeve, wincing slightly when she brushed against the large purple contusion on her forehead, a parting gift from Ward.. Looking around, she spotted the pitcher of water on his bedside table and poured herself a glass.

She pulled up a chair beside the bed and got settled in, taking her time drinking her water, nursing small sips as she studied the data displayed on the monitors around Fitz. Nothing had changed since he was admitted. His heart rate was normal as was everything else. He just wasn’t waking up.

“So, Fitz, what should we talk about today? I don’t feel much like debating science again, to be honest, and you’re well aware I let you win yesterday. After all, I am King of the Lab,” Jemma smiled, recalling the way Fitz had looked positively green as he admitted defeat, all those years ago.

“Oh, of course, you’ve won the title before but it was sheer luck, Fitz,” she rasped. “And let’s be clear, don’t go having any fanciful notions of acquiring the title now just because you sacrificed yourself. There wasn’t anything science-y about that. That was just you being a hero, that’s all.”

Jemma tried to smile but her lips wobbled dangerously and she quickly pressed them together. She’s been talking to him every hour, every day for more than a week now, aggravating the soreness in her throat. She swallowed with difficulty but otherwise ignored the pain. The doctors had told her that talking to a comatose patient helps sometimes and Jemma would have cut out her own heart if she thought it would make the tiniest difference. He had sacrificed his life. She sure as hell could endure a little discomfort.

So she had spent the past days begging and cajoling him to wake up. She had peppered him with anecdotes from their days at the Academy. She had read to him from his favourite science journals and novels, even coming up with science topics to debate like they used to while working long hours in the lab. She contested both sides of the arguments, purposely skewing the facts with the hope that he would be listening and would be aggravated enough to wake up and correct her. But there had been no change at all and Jemma was running out of ideas.

Her eyes flitted back to his face as she willed him to wake up. He remained indifferent and Jemma felt a sudden stab of annoyance.

Her lips formed a thin line as she glared at him. Jemma had really tried being patient but patience had never been a virtue of hers. Now she was exhausted and hurting. Her sore throat and the dark bruise shading her temple were superficial. Jemma’s hurt went beyond skin deep. Her heart was a constant ache and the pit of her stomach was a seemingly bottomless well of despair but beneath it all lurked a seething, angry pool of bubbling rage.

“Fitz, do you remember when I got infected with the alien virus or when I threw myself on the dendrotoxin grenade? I thought I was being noble, you know. I thought my actions were _heroic_ , that I was saving lives and making it easy for the rest of you,” she snorted derisively. “I’ve never been more wrong in my entire life. Why didn't you call me out, Fitz?” she demanded loudly, her hoarse throat making her voice squeak oddly. Arms crossed and foot tapping furiously, Jemma continued glowering at Fitz.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me how _selfish_ I was? Why did you never say how I was such an idiot? And the guilt! You never said anything about survivor’s guilt, Fitz!” her voice rising shakily as she released every single emotion she’s felt since plunging to the bottom of the ocean. She stood jerkily, her chair scraping the floor with a grating shriek. Jemma paced furiously, seeking an outlet for her anger and frustration at being so _helpless_.

She was helpless when Hydra took over S.H.I.E.L.D. and as Ward dropped them into the ocean. She was certainly helpless as Fitz urged her to forsake his life and save her own. She gritted her teeth, breathing heavily as she let the burning rage and the injustice of it all consume her. She’s been patiently waiting for him to wake up. Not anymore. She walked forward until she stood at the foot of his bed, scowling darkly at him.

“You never scream or yell or shout, not once! Not even once did you let on how mad you were at me for putting you through hell! Because this is hell Fitz, and I hate it here!” she spat out, her hands clenched into tight fists and her arms rigid by her side.

”You never said how much it hurts to see your best friend give their life away for you,” Jemma croaked. And then she laughed humourlessly as she turned away from him, no longer able to look at him.

“Oh, that’s right, I’m not your best friend am I? Oh no, I’m _more than that_ , apparently. Lord knows how long that’s been going on and did you ever say a word about it? No, of course not,” she said bitterly.

“You were just waiting for the right moment, I’m sure. That was it, wasn’t it? Just needed to find the right moment to tell me!” her voice rough with strain, face flushed and chest heaving.

“Hey Fitz, I have a question,” she said with faux nonchalance.

“In what universe was _that_ the right moment to tell me how you felt about me!” she yelled, her hands gesturing wildly in the air.

“You know what Fitz, I take it back. You weren’t being a hero. You were just being a selfish prat. See, whether it was the virus or the grenade, I made the choice to put you and everyone else before me. And I did it to myself. I threw my body around the grenade and I jumped out of the plane. I didn’t make anyone else do that for me. But not you, you had me take the last breath in that pod, you blew in the window and made me drag you 90 feet upwards towards the surface,” Jemma threw herself in the chair, pinching the bridge of her nose as a few tears trailed down her cheeks.

“That wasn’t heroics, Fitz, that was just you being a coward,” she said bitterly. Jemma shut her eyes in regret as hot shame coursed through her. “Oh, Fitz, I’m sorry, I didn't mean that,” she whispered as she gently held his hand.

”It’s just that you didn't give me any choice, Fitz,” she explained, her voice shaky with unshed tears. “You _did the math_ and decided everything and you didn't—you had no right to ask that of me! And I should never have let you sacrificed yourself and you–you—left me all a–alone to get us out of there and I thought I could do it—you said I could and I didn't!” Jemma choked out, her voice caught on a long suppressed sob.

“Fitz,” she moaned in anguish, “I couldn’t save you! And now you won’t even wake up!” she wept, finally succumbing to her tears. Her slender shoulders shook with the force of her sobs as she bowled over, resting her forehead on the sheets.

Jemma cried for a long time, she cried for herself, for the innocence that she had lost, for the collapse of an institution she had pledged her life to and believed in, for the betrayal at the hands of a friend, but most of all, she cried for the best friend that she might never hear speak again.

She sobbed harder as she contemplated the grim possibility of him never waking up, when an incessant beeping intruded on her morbid ponderings. She looked up confused, her crying subsiding slowly as she looked around trying to find the source of the noise when her eyes landed on a pair of blue so achingly familiar she quite literally forgot to breathe. She stared in shock. Her jaw was somewhere around her ankles and there was a loud roaring in her ears. She stood up quickly, swaying from vertigo.

She snapped her jaw shut after a few moments of gaping at him and tried to say something...anything. But her throat felt constricted and her tongue was lead. She worked her jaw painfully and she managed a syllable after a while.

_“Fitz.”_

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Madalayna for her awesome Beta-ing!!


End file.
